


Expresso Patronum

by WordsAreTrulyBeautiful



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cafe owner!Harry, Fluff, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, No prophecy, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreTrulyBeautiful/pseuds/WordsAreTrulyBeautiful
Summary: Prompt: Would I be so bold as to request a snarry coffee shop AU? They're my legit weakness honestly and I love your writing so so much xxOtherwise known as the one where Harry own a café and is a little in love with one of his regulars





	Expresso Patronum

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt a bazillion years ago and am only just getting around to filling it. For that, I apologize. I wrote this in a couple of hours and hope it isn't too awful. It's a fluffy attempt at a coffee shop AU. Not edited because I've already taken far too long to write it in general, and shan't postpone it's release any more to wait for a beta. Besides, it's only a short one-shot. 
> 
> I really hope the person who requested it sees it and likes it. Despite how it may look, I do take prompts year round. Here is a link to my blog [Potions-N-Potters](http://potions-and-potters.tumblr.com/), where you can send me an ask with your prompt! I really will get any sent to me done!
> 
> Now, enjoy and please let me know if you like it!

Harry was going to do it. He was going to do it! No more chickening out. No more pining. He was going to ask the man out.

It was only five months that Expresso Patronum was open, but he was already in love. The customer that came in every Wednesday at two and Saturday at ten and sat in the corner of the café with a stack of books and parchments was utterly gorgeous and due in any minute now. He’d order an Americano. A big one. If he was pecking he’d order a Bakewell tart or pumpkin pastie. If he was really hungry, a simple ham sandwich.

He dressed in all dark blue or black. Wednesday’s outfit was more formal. It included a dark blue suit, the suit jacket went almost to his knee. It cut in a v-shape where the buttons stopped just above his crotch. The matching trousers were fitted well, tight around the, er, crotch then looser on the leg, then tighter again over his black shoes. Buttoned there actually. The jacket had a lot of buttons as well. A white shirt was under the jacket. The collar was rather high. Always crisp white and stiff. The cuffs of the jacket were as tight against his arm and almost seemed too long, especially with the white cuff of the shirt poking out. That too was perfectly stiff and crisp white. Over this, he wore a black billowing robe. It was fascinating to watch him walk. It was like a liquid darkness swirled around behind him with every step.

On Saturdays, he was dressed differently but held the same air. He wore black trousers, in the same style as the dark blue ones. A white shirt with a black vest over top was under the same black robe. This combination left him slightly more revealed, and every so often, the collar was not done up all the way, allowing a glimpse of pale white skin.

What didn’t change was the scowl he gave anyone who looked to even consider chatting to him. The sharp and curious gaze of his dark eyes. The polite but firm way he dealt with people when he did interact with anyone. When he sat with his coffee and work, his dark hair fell in front of his face like a black vale, isolating him further from the other customers of the café.

He always ordered from Harry. Mostly because Harry was the only one who worked the register, but he seemed to like ordering from Harry. At least Harry liked to think so. His lip quirked sometimes. That might be because Harry tended to suddenly lose all hand-eye coordination around him and fumble with his money when long fingers would drop the money into Harry’s palm.

Any minute now.

Harry was going to do it. He was going to ask the man out and he would not chicken out. He had a plan this time. First, he’d ask how he was. Simple enough. He did that sometimes with other customers. Then, he’d ask what his name was. Then he’d ask if he had any plans for the day. Then he’d ask casually what about dinner. Then, he’d ask him out. See? A plan. He was going to do it.

“You’re drooling again. Thinking of tall, dark, and handsome?” Hermione asked with a knowing smile.

Harry blushed and cleared his throat as he vanished a pile of spilt coffee ground from the counter. “No,” he replied unconvincingly.

Hermione was a friend he had met when he’d gone to the Ministry of Magic to register schooling qualifications. She’d been an apprentice at the time, working her way up. Her husband, Ron, and she had both gone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school was nearby. It was one of the reasons he had chosen Hogsmeade as the location to open his café.

His mum and dad had gone to Hogwarts, but they had died tragically when Harry had been young from their work as Aurors. Harry was placed in the care of his Godfather, Sirius Black and for reasons he still didn’t understand and which Sirius refused to talk about, he was not allowed to go to Hogwarts. Instead, he was privately tutored in Grimmauld Place. He’d always wanted to go to Hogwarts, though. Like his mum and dad. He hoped he’d be a Gryffindor like them. Ron said he was sure he would have been. He, Ron, and Hermione would have all been in the same year and in Gryffindor together. Sometimes Harry daydreamed about all the trouble and adventures they could have had together if he’d been allowed to go. Well, he daydreamed about that when he wasn’t daydreaming about a particular customer he had fallen for.

Hermione had never actually seen the customer. She came in when she could when Harry was understaffed to help out, but as she was often busy and Harry rather good at keeping staffed well, she’d yet to see him. But today would be different. She’d finally see him. Then she’d know why Harry was so utterly besotted.

The jingle of the bell alerted a new customer and Harry snapped his head up. There he was, coming in from the snow. A thick black scarf was wrapped around him and he had on a thicker black robe than usual. The weather had turned quite chilly. It was never this cold in London.

“That’s him!” Harry whispered urgently to Hermione, who was operating the espresso machine. Hermione went to turn around and look but Harry flicked his wand discreetly under the counter, sending a small slapping sensation to her leg.

“Ow! That hurt,” she whispered harshly to him.

“Well, you were being obvious!”

“Oh, I’m the one being obvious?”

“Shh, here he comes.”

The man had taken off his scarf and robe, draping the robe over the back of the chair he usually occupied and the placing the scarf on the other opposite. He placed a pile of paperwork on the table. He was wearing those same black trousers as he usually did but instead of the shirt and vest, he had on a black fitted jumper. Unfortunately, it was a turtleneck, so there was no lovely glimpse of his neck. The fitted-ness of the jumper was making up for it though. His arms were clearly a lot more muscular than Harry had previously thought. _Fuck_. Harry swallowed as the man turned and walked towards the counter.

Quickly busying himself with adjusting the money in the till, he waited for the gorgeous bloke to approach. When a shadow engulfed him, he looked up with what he hoped was a confident and charming smile.

“Good morning, sir. What will it be today?” he asked.

“Large Americano and a Bakewell tart,” the velvety deep voice ordered. Harry had seriously naughty fantasies because of that voice.

“Coming right up,” he smiled.

He moved over to the espresso machine, vaguely wondering where Hermione had gotten to, but his attention was too focused on his favourite customer to think about it. Harry made the Americano, thrillingly feeling the dark gaze on his back the entire time.

“So, sir, how have you been this morning?” Harry asked, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he was. He must have startled the man because there was a pregnant pause.

“Fine,” came the reply in a suspicious tone.

Well, it made sense he’d be suspicious. It isn’t like they usually chatted. He probably thought Harry was going to try to push something on him.

“Any plans for today?”

A clearing of the man’s throat. Harry frowned as the coffee came pouring into the cup. Was the man okay? Was he that caught off guard? Was he uncomfortable? Perhaps it best not to ask so many questions so quickly. Harry finished the rest of the order in silence.

When the man’s order was ready he slid it over to him and told him his total. He watched as the man tipped his head down as he counted the money he produced from his wallet. Harry held in a sigh as he gazed at the lovely features.

“I’ve got a lot of grading to do, and then I’ll have some brewing this afternoon that I’ll need to get done also,” the man said suddenly.

Harry blinked. What? The man glanced up at him. His eyelashes were quite long. How had Harry not noticed that before? Merlin that man’s eyes were enough to make him weak at the knees. The man cleared his throat.

“My plans today,” he clarified lightly. Nervously?

Oh, Merlin, Harry made him nervous. He was so bad at this that he’d gone and made the man uncomfortable enough that continuing the conversation made him nervous! He had at least several inches on Harry and at least a stone as well. Great. Well done, Harry.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Harry responded, hoping to salvage the situation. He surely couldn’t make it worse.

“Oh, no, I –“ the man stopped talking and cleared his throat yet again.

Maybe this was why he kept to himself? Wasn’t he comfortable talking with people? And there was Harry trying to chat him up when the poor bloke came here obviously because he felt safe enough that he wouldn’t have to deal with the socialization while still being out and about. Fantastic. Well done, Potter, the situation got worse.  

“I’m a professor at the school,” the man replied, having seemingly collected himself. He looked at Harry with a bit of a hopeful expression.

Oh! Maybe he came here to get slowly better at social interactions! Right. Harry could help with that! They could become friends. Harry would pine after him, sure, but he’d be his friend! It was better than nothing.

“Interesting. What do you teach?”

“Potions.”

Harry was pretty average at potions. His tutor said he had promise, but it was clear to them both he wasn’t destined to be a potions master by a long shot.

“And Head of Slytherin House.”

“Oh.”

Harry had heard things from Ron about Slytherin. Not good things. What did this mean?

“You obviously didn’t go to Hogwarts so were you privately schooled?” the man asked.

Harry blinked again. “Home tutored, actually. How did you know I didn’t go to Hogwarts?”

“I would have taught you.”

“You don’t seem that old.” Harry wanted to shove his head in the coffee grinder. Why did he say that? What possessed him to say such a stupid thing? He didn’t seem old at all! Yes, he was older than Harry but -“I mean older,” Harry quickly corrected himself.

A breathy laugh came from the man, a light chuckle. “I assure you that compared to your exuberant youth I am quite old.” The man’s hint of a smile vanished suddenly and he looked uncomfortable again.

“You cannot be that old. I refuse to believe it,” Harry said trying to bring back the light mood they’d managed to fall into.

The man looked hesitant. “I’m forty-one,” he stated.

“That’s only,” Harry frowned and thought for a second.

“Twenty-one years older than you,” the man supplied for him.

“How’d you know–“

“I’m rather good at knowing people’s ages. A gift you pick up as a teacher.”

“Oh, right.” Harry smiled at the man. Right. So what was the rest of that plan again? Oh. His name. “I’m Harry by the way,” he said and reached out to shake the man’s hand.

The man hesitated again, looking at the offered hand for so long that Harry thought he’d been too forward and was about to take it back awkwardly. Then, he reached out and took hold of his hand. It was a firm handshake. His hand was warm, the fingers slightly calloused (probably from all that potions work) and his hand made Harry’s look sort of small.

“Severus,” the deep voice stated.

Harry beamed.

The door jingled again and another customer, a boy younger than Harry, was making a bee-line for the counter.

Severus dropped the money he had in his other hand into Harry’s palm, the tips of his fingers grazing Harry’s skin. They held eye contact for a moment until the other customer came within a couple of feet. Severus took his coffee and tart and walked over to his little table.

“Hello, what can I get you?” Harry asked the new customer as he approached.

“A hot chocolate, please,” the boy said, handing over the exact change.

Harry heard Hermione come out from the back and get to work behind him on the hot chocolate. The boy moved to the side as he waited, giving Harry a shy smile.

“Good weekend so far?” Harry asked him. The boy nodded. “Surprised you aren’t sleeping in on a snowy weekend day like this. Do you go to Hogwarts?” Harry wondered if he had Snape as his teacher.

“Yeah. I’ve just had my potions exam yesterday,” he replied. Harry’s eyes automatically went to Severus, whose hair was acting as a vale already. “I was up all week. I basically lived off coffee and now I can’t get to sleep. Me mum always gives me hot chocolate when I can’t sleep, so I’m, um, hoping it still has the same effect.”

“Was it a hard exam?” Harry asked, not having paid attention to the rest of what the boy had said.

“Was it! Potions is my worst subject. I always have to study twice as hard as everyone else and I still don’t make good grades. I don’t think I’ll ever pass my final exam. I’m thinking I should just give up on my OWLs now.”

“And the teacher? Surely he helps?”

The boy looked a little confused.  “Er, did you go to Hogwarts?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Harry waited for the boy to answer his question. “Oh, um. Well, he expects a lot. It doesn’t help that he’s my Head of House, so there’s even more pressure to do well. You know, for Slytherin to keep up the streak we have of winning the house cup. Oh, I guess you wouldn’t since you didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

“If it’s so important to do well, why not ask for help then,” Harry asked again.

The boy blinked. He looked utterly lost for words at the question. Like such a thing couldn’t have possibly been said. Eventually, he gathered himself before continuing. “Professor Snape… he’s not very…” the boy lowered his voice, “approachable.”

“I’m heartbroken to hear that, Mister Samson,” Severus drawled from behind the boy.

Harry looked up quickly, startled. He hadn’t even heard or noticed that Severus had moved, let alone that he was so close. The Samson boy’s eyes went so wide they looked like they’d pop out their sockets and he spun around so fast it was a surprise he didn’t give himself whiplash.

“P-Professor Snape, s-sir,” the boy said, his voice laced with horror and impending doom.  A single arched eyebrow was his response from his Head of House. “I – I –“

“Should not be in Hogsmeade without an accompanied faculty member? Yes, I was just thinking the same thing when I spotted you. I suppose we should get you back to the castle before you force me to take any more points from my own house?”

“Any m-more?”

Severus did not look amused. “Five points for sneaking out of the castle and another five for making me lose my Saturday morning to assuring you find your way back in one piece.”

The boy gulped. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Stay here while I collect my things.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry watched as Severus drained the last of his coffee, packed up his things, and put his thick winter robe on. He put the scarf on as he made his way back over. Harry thought he looked a lot more intimidating in teacher mode. He wondered how they’d get on if he had gone to Hogwarts. He also, for the first time, wondered if he would have been put in Slytherin and if they were as bad as Ron said they were.

Severus gave him a nod goodbye before practically dragging the boy out of the café.

“Hot chocolate,” Hermione said.

“Too late,” Harry replied, watching them disappear into the snow outside.

“Oh did he run for the hills after you finished your interrogation?”

“What?”

Hermione cocked an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t – “

“You were. In fact, you were like a dog with a bone. Wouldn’t let it go. What were you talking about?”

“I was curious is all!” Hermione’s expression told him she didn’t believe it. “Anyway, did you see him?”

“No, I remembered we had some pastries doing in the oven and had to tend to those.”

“He was wearing something different today!” Hermione rolled her eyes. “A black turtleneck. Fitted.”

“Easy, Harry. You’re swooning.”

“Shut up. You’d swoon too if you’d have seen him.”

“Oi, who’s my wife swooning after?” Ron’s voice came. Hermione and Harry looked up and saw him approaching the counter.

“Harry’s Café Prince Charming,” Hermione answered.

“Was he here? Did I miss him?”

“Just,” Harry said sadly. If they saw him they’d know and feel his pain. Well, maybe not Ron.

“I missed him too because I was in the back. And of course, he was here, Ron. It _is_ Saturday after all,” Hermione joked.

“You know I think I can manage the café all by myself today, so if you wouldn’t mind, ” Harry announced, ignoring the blush heating his cheeks.

“Mate, you’ve got it bad,” Ron laughed.

Like Harry needed telling that.

“Oh, please,” Hermione grinned, not budging. “We won’t talk about it the rest of the day? How about that?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And they didn’t. That didn’t mean that Harry didn’t think about him for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday finally came. Harry was counting down the minutes until Severus was due. He made sure the table he like was unoccupied and clean. He double-checked he had the pastries and sandwiches he liked in case he was hungry. All was ready.

“I hope I was never like this with Ron,” Hermione said, watching Harry as she wiped down the counters.

“Shhh,” Harry hushed.

“He isn’t even –“

The door jingled and Harry beamed.

Back in his teaching attire, as Harry with his new information about the man now guessed they were. He even got a slight smile in return. This was perfect. Maybe Harry could ask him out anyway! No. No, friends first.

“Good afternoon, how has your day been so far? No disobeying students today I hope,” Harry said.

“When are they well behaved?” was the drawled reply he got. Harry grinned.

“The usual?” he asked?

“Usual?” Severus replied in confusion.

“Oh, uh, well I noticed you usually have a large Americano and sometimes a, uh, Bakewell tart or pumpkin pastie, or a ham sandwich if you’re really hungry,” Harry explained with a blush. Merlin. He sounded like a bloody stalker. Wonderful.

“That’s very observant,” Severus replied.

Harry smiled shyly. Was that good? Observant was good, right?

“Very well, my usual then. And I’m hungry. Had to skip lunch,” Severus stated and there was absolutely a smile in his voice.

Harry smiled wider and went to work on the Americano. As he worked he heard Hermione come back behind the counter.

“A ham sandwich, please,” Harry told her, feeling giddy.

“Miss Granger?” Severus said in surprise.

Harry froze while he made the Americano. Of course. Hermione went to Hogwarts. She would have been taught by Severus. Oh! She could tell him all about him! This was wonderful. And that meant Ron knew who he was as well. He probably didn’t like him since Ron both hated potions and all Slytherins.

“Professor Snape,” Hermione greeted.

“I must say I’m surprised to see you working at a café,” Severus stated with some amusement. “Last I heard you were working at the Ministry. Did it not work out?”

“Oh no, it did. I still do work there. I just help out Harry when I can,” she replied. “He owns the place,” she added.

“Really?” Severus said in surprise again.

Harry turned around and slid the Americano over to him. Severus was looking at him. For the first time, Harry felt a mix of pride and shame. On the one hand, he hadn’t felt ashamed to be working at a café before, and Severus hadn’t seemed to think lowly of him for doing so. It made no sense for him to feel ashamed of working at a café anyway. It was a job. One he enjoyed. But on the other hand, he felt pride about owing the café, as he usually did. He had worked hard to get it up and running.

“Owning your own business at such a young age, that’s very impressive,” Severus commented. Harry felt his cheeks heat. Severus handed over the money and took his order. He gave Harry an intense look that he wasn’t sure what it meant.

Hermione said nothing, but suddenly found a way to keep herself very busy all day. Harry didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he could ask her about Severus while he was still here. He learnt that the last time he tried getting information about the man. Instead, he the time that Severus was there working and glancing at him. He was grading papers again. Essays by the look of it.

When he left an hour later, Harry thought about all the things he could have done differently to interact with the man more. By the time it was closing time Harry was sure he was socially stunted or something. He didn’t ask how the man was. He didn’t ask how it went with that boy. He didn’t ask anything about the man.

“Harry,” Hermione said, making him jump.

“Blimey, Hermione,” Harry said.

“You do know who that man is don’t you?” she asked, looking hard into his green eyes.

“Yes. Severus. Severus Snape.”

“Severus. Snape,” Hermione repeated.

“Yeah. What I just said.”

“The Severus Snape.”

“So he was your teacher?”

“He-“ Hermione stared at him. “Harry!”

“What?!”

“You could have told me the bloke you’ve fancied for five months was _Professor Snape_!” Hermione practically screeched.

“He wasn’t my Professor!” Harry defended himself.

“Professor Snape though, Harry?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“So?”

“I thought this mystery customer of yours was going to be suave, charming, elegant, gallant, romantic, handsome, kind –“

“He is!”

“It’s Snape!”

“So what? He is all those things!”

“No. He really isn’t. He was my professor for seven years, Harry. Take it from me. That man is none of those things.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong.”

“Ron’s going to throw a fit.”

“Didn’t he like him?”

“Hate. He hated him. As Snape hated Ron. Snape hates everyone and everyone hates Snape.”

“I don’t hate him,” Harry snapped. “And I don’t think he hates me either.”

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione gasped. She looked at Harry in horror. “You’re _right_. He did like you. I saw it. He really genuinely liked you. He- he fancies you!”

“What? You think so?”

“This can’t happen.”

“Why not? And don’t say because it’s Snape! I mean Severus.”

“Harry, Snape isn’t who you think he is,” Hermione said very seriously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looked uncomfortable. “Maybe you should ask Sirius.”

“I haven’t spoken to him for weeks. He’s off on Auror business.”

“Well, then you’re due for a chat anyway. Just do it before Saturday. And, Harry,” she looked concerned. “Be careful around Snape.”

 

* * *

 

 

Harry firecalled Sirius that night. He couldn’t get Hermione’s words out of his head. He didn’t understand. So what if he was a harsh teacher? Harry’s tutors had been hard as well but that didn’t mean they were horrible people.

“Harry! Good to hear from you!” Sirius answered with a smile and a loud voice.

“Hi, Padfoot. How is work?”

“Oh, the usual.” Harry wasn’t allowed to know what Sirius was up to, but he liked to ask out of habit. “How’s business?”

“Good, good,” Harry replied. He bit his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase his question. Or how to broach the topic at all.

“Everything all right?”

“Do you know a Severus Snape? He's the potions master at Hogwarts. Head of Slytherin House, too, I think.”

Harry was surprised to see Sirius’s expression change so quickly and not for the better. Did Hermione’s warnings hold some truth to them?

“You stay away from him, Harry,” Sirius ordered him angrily.

“So, you do know him then?”

“Yes.”

Harry thought for a second. Both Sirius and Severus were forty-one and Severus probably attended Hogwarts as well.

“Were you in school together?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

“So he knew my parents?”

“Yes.”

Harry thought about this. Sirius always told him he looked just like his father. Severus had to recognize him though. Was that why he was being nice to him? Because he reminded him of his childhood friends?

“Did you like him? Did my parents like him?”

“No.”

Harry hesitated, getting the strong vibe from Sirius that he did not want to talk about Severus Snape, but Harry was desperate for more information. So he risked it and asked, “Why?”

“He’s not a good influence, Harry. You stay far away from him. Do you hear me?”

“Well I can’t exactly kick him out of the café,” Harry said.

“He showed up at your café?”

“Yeah?”

“Has he been before? He has, hasn’t he? What did he say? Did he do anything to you? Harry answer me. Do I need to floo over? Are you okay?”

“Sirius calm down! I’m fine! He just orders a coffee and does some work in the café like everyone else. He’s a normal paying customer.” Sirius baulked at that statement. “Why does everyone have a problem with him?”

“Who else has a problem with him?” Sirius asked intrigued. Harry was regretting calling.

“Hermione warned me off him, too,” he finally admitted.

“I always said she was the smartest witch of her age. She’s going to be Minister one day, mark my words.”

“Sirius,” Harry sighed. He knew this was just his way of avoiding the question. Although, Hermione was probably the smartest witch of their age and probably would become Minster one day. But that was beside the point.

“Snivellus is a dark wizard, Harry. It’s only a matter of time that I show up at Hogwarts and drag him to Azkaban myself. He knew more curses than the seventh years before he even got to Hogwarts. Loves the dark arts. A Slytherin through and through. Only reason he’s not locked up is because Dumbledore vouched for him. Merlin knows why.”

“Dumbledore? Why? What happened?”

Sirius went quiet for a moment.

“Sirius?”

“He’s a Death Eater. Or was, if you believe Dumbledore’s story. Apparently, he changed sides. I don’t believe it. I think he’s part of all this left-over crowd of Death Eaters still causing havoc.”

Harry stared at the flames. A Death Eater? His parents had died fighting Voldemort before Dumbledore killed him. Harry knew all about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Sirius had fought them as well, next to his parents in the Order of the Phoenix. His tutors had spent an entire year recounting the history of Voldemort and his followers, describing the horrible things they did. They inhumane beliefs they held.

Harry couldn’t picture Severus as a Death Eater.

“You’re wrong,” Harry said. “He isn’t. He’s a Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He teaches Potions. He’s Slytherin’s Head of House. He deals with eleven-year-olds and grades papers on the weekends.”

“Harry?” Sirius asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I’ve got to go,” Harry said, feeling his eyes fill with tears.

“Harry –“

Harry ended the firecall and sat back with a gasp. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how Severus could be a Death Eater. It wasn’t possible. The man who Harry had seen twice a week for five months being involved with the people who killed his parents?

They all had to be wrong. They _had_ to be.

 

* * *

 

 

Saturday came quickly. With the cold weather, his staff were dropping like flies and he was yet again understaffed. Unfortunately, Hermione couldn’t help out as she was caught up with work at the Ministry. Even more unfortunate, it was a Hogsmeade weekend. It was a weekend that Harry usually looked forward to as it often meant a lot of customers and a lot of customers meant Harry could treat himself the next week. He was not looking forward to this weekend though. In fact, since his firecall with Sirius, he was dreading Saturday.

But it came anyway like it always does. Harry waited with baited breath for Severus to walk through the door. He had thought then rethought what he would say to the man. He had gone through every emotion, from blazing anger which left his glass door to the balcony of his flat cracked with the bursts of accidental, emotional un-controlled magic, to utterly heartbroken on his living room sofa. He couldn’t settle on an emotion.

Finally, an hour later than he usually came, Severus showed up. A string of Slytherins were in tow. The Samson boy included. He walked up to Harry with a slight smile and Harry realized that Severus had no reason to think anything was wrong.

Severus, though, was quite observant, and immediately clocked on that something was, in fact, wrong. He frowned as he approached the counter. Harry stood up straighter, trying to keep calm.

“What can I get you, sir?” he asked shortly.

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “The usual.”

Harry swallowed back any of the words that wanted to fall from his mouth and made the large Americano. He heard Severus place the money on the counter. Behind Severus were the Slytherin students chatting away happily. They were talking about what they’d get and how their charms exam had gone. Severus was watching Harry like a hawk. He could feel the dark gaze on his back and this time, Harry didn’t like it at all.

 “Here you are,” Harry stated, sliding over the hot mug.

“Thank you,” Severus said slowly and didn’t move. He looked like he was waiting for Harry to say something, then like he was thinking of something to say.

Before he could open his mouth, Harry opened his own. “Next.”

“I’ll have a hot chocolate with extra cream,” a Slytherin girl asked.

Harry told her the total and went to work making it, ignoring Severus. He ignored Severus through all eight orders following the girl’s (five more hot chocolates and three teas). Severus didn’t budge from the spot he was standing in slightly to the left of the till, sipping his coffee as he watched Harry intensely. Finally, the last order was out. Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to go into the back and pretend to be busy, or stay his ground and keep ignoring the man. This was his café. He could ask him to leave. But that might be a bit much. And he was a good customer.

“Harry, is everything all right?” Severus asked.

Harry was going to lie and say yes. He was going to pretend everything was fine. He was going to remain calm and not say a word about what was eating him up inside, about the thing that had left him sleepless all week. Instead, he bollocksed it all up and said this instead.

“You’re a Death Eater.”

Severus’s face changed quickly from concerned to utterly expressionless. Harry clenched his fist. So it was true.

“I think it best if we talk in private,” Severus answered quietly, calmly.  Harry wanted to throw him from the café. No. He wanted to blast him out of the café. “Please, Harry.”

“Follow me.”

Harry walked into the back and as soon as Severus was in there as well, threw up a powerful silencing charm. He slowly turned around and leant back on the metal table against the back wall, his arms crossed and his eyes glaring daggers at Severus.

Severus, on the other hand, stood just to the left of the door back into the front of the café. He was completely unreadable. He was watching Harry like he was measuring an animal ready to attack. Harry hoped the bastard was scared of him. Severus might know more curses than him and dark arts, if Sirius was right, but Harry wasn’t helpless. Sirius had assured he had a damn good defence training.

“Speak.”

Severus raised a brow.

“You’ve got ten minutes before I kick you out of this café and tell you never to come back.”

Severus’s expression didn’t falter. Harry felt a pang of hurt at that. Was their little friendship that meaningless to him? It was short, but Harry thought it had been the start of something. Why did he want to speak with him if he didn’t care?

“I was a Death Eater.”

Harry glared harder. The hurt he felt turning to pain for the memory of his parents.

“I am not one now. I assure you.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Do you think Albus Dumbledore would allow a Death Eater to teach children?”

“You said you were one. So, he technically did.”

Severus looked annoyed for a split second before his face smoothed to blankness once more.  “I was a Death Eater, but I saw the error of my ways and changed. Long ago. I fought against You Know Who. I helped bring him down.”

“So why does Sirius still think you’re involved with them?”

Severus looked confused and then livid. “Sirius Black? Why did you talk to him about me? What did the mutt say?”

“He’s my godfather and I talked to him on Wednesday after - never mind. I’m asking the questions. Why would he, an Auror, think you’re involved with the Death Eaters still?”

“Black has been delusionally paranoid about me since we were eleven. Not to mention, he's always been an arse and a child. Needless to say, we aren’t the best of friends.”

“I gathered.”

Severus was staring at Harry, trying to read him. Harry was staring at Severus, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, Severus seemed to make up his mind about something. He walked directly towards Harry. Harry stood his ground, throwing his shoulders back and setting his jaw.

Severus came to a stop in front of him. He unbuttoned his jacket sleeve and shoved it up to his elbow, along with the white shirt and stuck his arm out for Harry to see. There, on his left forearm, was the Dark Mark. Harry swallowed. He’d never seen one in real life before.

“I _was_ a Death Eater. It was a mistake I made when I was a foolish, naïve, lost child. I won’t make excuses but I have regretted it ever since.” Severus’s voice had gone quiet and soft by the time he stopped speaking.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“It isn’t exactly something I’m proud of.”

“But you knew who I was didn’t you?”

Severus didn’t reply. It was his turn to swallow and the guilty look that seeped into his dark eyes told Harry his answer.  “You look so much –“

“Like my father. I’ve heard.”

“Like your mother.”

Harry blinked. Most everyone who knew his parents never got past how much he looked like him. Everyone always talked about him. How good at Quidditch he was. How talented at charms he was. How popular he was. How he had a knack for mischief. Rarely did his mother come up.

Severus looked at Harry’s eyes, but he wasn’t looking into his eyes. He seemed sad, for a moment. Then he looked away. Harry wasn’t breathing.

“We were friends before Hogwarts. And throughout until, until an incident. A stupid incident due to my –“ Severus pressed his lips together. “She went one way and I went the other. She married your father, had you, was saving the world. When she died I… She was still my best friend even after all those years. I’d been waiting for you to show up in my classroom. I remember the year Albus told me that you wouldn’t be attending.”

“What did you think?” Harry squeaked out in a rough voice.

“I didn’t. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t. I just felt.”

“What did you feel?”

Severus looked at him then. “Relief.”

Harry looked down at the ground, unsure why his eyes were filling with tears. A thumb and index finger, still cold from the snow outside, gently held his chin and tipped his head back up. Severus was looking at him, mouth slightly parted, as he looked back to Harry’s eyes. He wasn’t looking at them, but he was looking into them.

“When I first saw you,” he said, still holding Harry’s chin, “I almost turned around and left. You do look a bit like your father, but not all that much. Perhaps when you were younger. Your private tutoring might have been a blessing in disguise as things would have probably turned out quite differently if we’d known each other sooner.”

Harry didn’t know what to say so he just stared into Severus’s eyes as Severus stared into his and kept talking slowly. His voice was low and quiet, despite the silencing charm. He was standing close, the body heat warming Harry to the point he felt a bit flushed.

“Then I saw your eyes. Green, like your mother’s. The same shape, too. It was like a ghost coming back to haunt me. It wasn’t until I really looked at you, though, that I realized –“

“Realized what?”

“That I realized you aren’t either of your parents.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. I haven’t been capable of thinking straight since I came in five months ago.”

Harry’s breath hitched.

“What were you feeling?”

Severus didn’t respond and Harry stopped breathing altogether. Then, he bent his head down, closing the small distance between them and his lips touched Harry’s softly. Harry’s eyes closed as he leaned into the kiss. Severus’s lips were softer than he thought they’d be, and warmer too. Severus tasted like the Americano he had been drinking. Harry hoped his lips weren’t chapped from the cold, but the worry vanished as he felt Severus’s other hand wrap around his waist.

He let out a happy sigh as Severus continued to kiss him.

 


End file.
